


Invisible Strings of the Heart

by tooclosetothemoon



Category: Empire of Storms - Fandom, Throne of Glass - Fandom, kingdome of ash, queen of shadows - Fandom
Genre: Cute, F/M, Fluff, Highschool AU, I hope, Jealous Dorian, Love, Modern AU, They meet at a party, abraxos is a car, also manon is self councious, because hes dorian, but neither likes parties, dorian has money, dorian is hot, highschool, insecure, its good, manon is a bad ass, manoria, so they leave, they like to drive, they meet driving, you like it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:14:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27713942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tooclosetothemoon/pseuds/tooclosetothemoon
Summary: Manon and Dorian Highschool AU:Manon Blackbeak runs because that is all she knows to do. Run, and drive. She wished she could fly though. It would be so much simpler. But, of course, she cannot, so drives until her legs hurt and she's breathless.Dorian Havilliard drives because he does not fear life. Because empty dirt roads and the endless turn of wheels was all he ever wanted his entire life.Manon's dragged to a party by her cousin, but she leaves to do what she does best, drive.Dorian Havilliard escapes his own party to do the same. The money and bling, evidence of his family who refuses to speak to him.One night, when he finds a girl with a key as a weapon, breath that smells like grape jolly ranchers, and cat eyes,  on his usual road, he's entranced to learn more about her. To figure out why her lips were dyed red and her hair dyed white.Manon doesn't kill pretty boys. Well, she doesn't kill in general, but she'd thought about it. So, when she finds a pretty boy following her, then reaching into her car when she stepped away once to take a picture of the moon she contemplated killing pretty boys.Except this boy--this boy looked at her like she was a pretty girl.
Relationships: Dorian - Relationship, Manon - Relationship, Manon Blackbeak/Dorian Havilliard
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hello Loves! This is just a huge, cute Manorian AU. I try and update once a week, but only if people really like this. Basically Manon is a bad ass and Dorian likes bad asses. There is a heavy abuse element, but I'll make sure to add triger warnings whenever they happen. 
> 
> "Flying was her safe haven, but one day she'd fly too close to the sun, and she'd burn." 
> 
> You can find this on fanfiction.net and wattpad under the same name as well.

Chapter One:

My brain's a dog asleep that I cannot let lie  
Cloudy head, though I can't find a single silver lining  
Guess there is no hope for me in sight  
To ease this troubled mind  
Noah Kahan: Troubled Mind

Chapter One:

My brain's a dog asleep that I cannot let lie

Cloudy head, though I can't find a single silver lining

Guess there is no hope for me in sight

To ease this troubled mind

  * Noah Kahan: Troubled Mind



Manon Blackbeack was no stranger to change. She was no stranger to new environments or new people, because no matter where she was, or who she was with, she’d always be the same. There was no changing her. She inflicted pain wherever she went, and this new school--this new town, would not change anything. 

At least this time, she knew not to get too attached. Because after this year ended, Asterin would graduate, and she’d be miles away in another state for school, so she’d have to move with her, or back to her grandmother she went. A shudder climbed up her spine shooting her up on the grey sofa she currently sat in. 

She didn’t know where Asterin had brought her, but it was obviously some kind of party. She didn’t know if she could call it that. Well, she didn’t know what a party was supposed to be like, she’d never been to one. This--this was not what she imagined. 

She wasn’t alone on the couch, rather she had company. Two teenagers she’d probably never see again, or would depending on when school started, consumed eachother near her. She nearly gagged.

A red solo cup was shoved into her palms by Asterin some time ago. She hadn’t drunk the shit inside. One, it smelled horrible, and two, red was her color, and horrible things did not belong in them. That was false. She was always in some kind of red, and she was quite horrible. 

Manon got up from her seat at the cushion. The couple toppled over onto where she sat, now lying on top of one another. She groaned.  _ Disgusting. _

Her cup swung between her fingers as she walked. Nearing a dry plant, she spilled the contents of the plastic cup into the dry soil. The plant absorbed it instantly, obviously deprived of drink. That couldn’t be good for it. Manon felt  _ bad _ for it. Abandoned in the corner of some rich kids living room, waterless. She stared at the droopy leaves intensely.  _ Feed me, Manon. Feed me. _

Maybe she  _ was _ drunk. Nevertheless, she caved it and headed for the kitchen, her cup still in hand. Fine, she was thirsty too, she might as well feed the poor thing something other than alcohol. 

Her solo cup in hand, she strutted to the lavish while kitchen, obviously the product of millions of dollars of innovations. Thsi whole house screamed money. While and grey furniture. Huge paintings of Greek Gods naked as the day they were born. The smell of cologne and bleach reeked in the air as well as intoxication and sweat. 

Maybe she should just leave. But, the plant was just ther, drooping. Manon groaned, she was not supposed to care for a simple thing as a plant. It made no sense.  _ Feed me, Manon. Feed me. _

She made the final stretch into the kitchen, her black heels thud, thud, thudding on the tile. Her dyed white ponytail swishing behind her head. She rubbed her lips together spreading the bright red of them together. Color, to bring out her colorless face.

Holy Hell, it was impossible to even get to the sink. A girl had her bag pressed against it, her head curved almost touching the faucet. Manon groaned for the millionth time that night. Not the good kind of groan. 

“Move,” she mumbled. The guy peered up to her from the girl’s collarbone. 

“Rude,” the girl whispered before she was wisked away by the hips to another more secular location.  _ Good, whatever.  _

There was no handle to the faucet. Manon inspected it, confused. A red censor smiled at her.  _ Ah, fancy people shit.  _ With a wave of her hand, cool water empried into her cup. She thre it back drinking the whole thing. Cold, refreshing water coated her throat. A near moan escaped her, but she kept it in, filling another cup instead for the plant. 

She didn’t know how to turn the sink off, so she didn’t. Whoever owned this home could pay a couple extra dollars in water bill. She didn’t know who would rather live in such a modern, robotic home when they had enough money to live in an equally lavish palace. The kind with ivy that climbed against the walls and dragons lay on the roof. Manon chuckled at herself.  _ Dragons, really? Go feed the damn plant.  _

__ “Yeah, whatever,” she whispered to herself. Great, now she was talking to herself too.

Manon kneeled down and meticulously emptied the cup of water into the soil of the plant. It was like it immediately greened when the water touched it. She stroked the poor things yellowing leaves enjoying the way the crinkly parts felt on her skin. A smile crawled up her lips. 

_ There _ , she thought getting up and rubbing invisible dirt off of her hands.  _ Now, find Asterin and let her know you’re going home.  _

__ Manon stretched her back. She searched for Asterin’s stretch of golden hair. Her cousin was one for sore eyes. Beautiful beyond comparison. A beautifully curved face and baby blue eyes. Her cousin did not look like her cousin, but they shared the Blackbeak name, so appearance or not, she was her cousin. She was the one that saved Manon’s life.

So, now that Asterin was legally allowed to own property, she took Manon to her small apartment where they currently resided. Asterin, at the age of 19, was a year older than all her peers though she would never admit it to anyone. Before this apartment, another apartment, then there was a shelter, then a literal cave where she lived with some crazy man who hunted for food for two weeks. Ever since Asterin hit 18, she took Manon wherever she went, and she went wherever her grandmother wasn’t. She spent her summer of sophomore year in Colorado, Oregon,  _ and _ California. 

Her grandmother visited one month only because she had to legallt. That month usually consisted of bruises that healed the next. Manon spent school Sophomore year at three different schools. Now, she was a Junior. Who knew how many schools she’d go to this year.

School started next week, and she wasn’t  _ not _ excited. Rather, excitement was just something she did not feel anymore. 

She spotted her in the corner with some guy. A solo cup in her hand, her smile loopy. Once again. Manon groaned. She knew how this would go. Asterin would not return tonight, she woudln’t be here in the morning, then she’d shoot Manon an apology test while telling ehr just how much fun she had that night. Sometimes, she wished she was Asterin. Life sempt so much easier being her.

Manon took out her phone and typed in a message to her cousin. 

**Manon: Going home. Have fun.**

Asterin took out her phone, read the message, searched for her, and finally gave her a thumbs up, charming smile, and nod. Her usual goodbye.

It was so crowded there. People riddled around like vultures looking for their prey. Manon felt  _ suffocated _ .  _ Shit, shit, shit, it’s happening. Breath, Manon, breath.  _ Her pace quickened as she basically bolted for the door.

_ Out, out, out, I need to get out.  _ Skin on skin, they were touching her. Her arm burned from their touch as she shoved her way for the front door.  _ Almost there.  _

__ She should have never gone to this party. She was only there for an hour, and she had no fun anyways. God, she should have said no when Asterin insisted. Now--now she was crawling out of an enormous home with a clear head and a mourning feeling crawling up her spine. 

Warm summer air smacked her in the face when she burst through the double doors of the palace like house.  _ Breath, Manon, breath. No one can hurt you here.  _

__ Manon took a deep breath in through her nose and out through her mouth. The only thing she did today was feed that ugly plant. It glared at her back.  _ Coward, you shoudl have had some fun.  _

__ Manon peered at it. “Fuck you. I shouldn’t have fed you,” she whispered. Crazy. She was going mad. 

A chill ran up her arms leaving goosebumps behind. She reached into the pocket of her jeans finding her keys. There, part haphazardly on the side of the road, her car, Abraxos in all his red glory. The car was old, and she worked all summer to afford it. It was not nice, took thirty second to start each time, and often broke down, but she loved it. 

Manon let out another breath before walking over to Abraxos like she had not just had a small panic attack. She was fine. Perfectly fine.

Her butt hit Abraxos’s leather. Much more comfortabel than the fancy couch she sat in earlier. Much, much better. She closed her eyes and dug her key into the keyhole. She turned, Abraxos groaned. Normal for her car. She turned around, and with a loud revving noise, he started up again. 

With her palms braced on Abraxos’s wheel, she let out one more breath and rested her white hair on the back of his leather seat. A beat later, and she was off. The road was in front of her, and maybe, just maybe she didn’t have fun here at this lavish home filled with lavish people, but she could have fun on her own. On her own on the road where she felt like she was flying. 

Flying was her safe haven, but one day, she would fly too close to the sun, and she’d burn. 

He was burning. His skin felt like it was on fire with the roof of his convertible down. Faster and faster he drove until he was breathless and tired. The road was clear in front of him. A dirt road. One his father took him to when he still spoke to him. It was usually empty, and he’d just hit the road and drive far and wide until he hit the city. It was his escape. 

A car zoomed by in a flash of red. Dorian slowed down a bit to watch. Nobody knew of this road. How did someone find it? 

He stilled to a near stop and watched the red car zoom forwards. His breathing stopped a little before he drove after it. He’d left his home with a party bustling in it. Peer pressure. That was what convinced him to throw a party while his family was still gone for the summer. But, eventually the party became too much, and Dorian coudln’t handle it. So, he just chose to drive because that was what he did best. 

He stepped on the gas chasing after the red car. A nice chase was what he needed. As he neared, he observed the car from nearer. It was an old car, obviously damaged and worn. Nothing compared to his luxury black one his dad bought him a while back. It was a nice car nonetheless. It had a story. 

The red car was faster than he was. Dorian stepped on the gas harder, a smile spreading on his face.  _ Faster, Dorian, faster.  _

__ The road ran thin underneath his car as the world blurred around him. Well, then his world froze.

The window of the red car was rolled down all the way. Flichers of long white hair escaped from it. Heavy rap music escaped from the car.  _ Intriguing.  _ Dorian sped up more so that he could see the recipient of the silver white hair. 

He was so, so close to the open window. “Nice car-” he called, but then the car darted forwards in another boost of energy. Dorian slammed his hands against the wheel.  _ Faster, Dorian, faster.  _ He chased after the car until it just stopped ahead of him. 

Confused, Dorian hit his breaks. His car slowed to a stop next to the red one. He peered into the open window, but the driver was gone. Their keys were still in the engine. Stupid, someone could easily take it. He reached into the open window, his heels lifting from the ground, and reached for the keys. With a twist and a pop, he took them out of the engine. Fine, if this was how he was going to find the driver, then fine--

A twinge of pain knocked his thoughts out of his head. “What the--” Dorian said, reaching up to rub his head. A pebble dropped to the floor in front of him. He searched around to find his attacker. Maybe he shouldn’t have chased after strange cars. Then something wrapped around his ankle. Panic attacked him.  _ Shit, this is how I die.  _

His body was jerked forwards and turned around. A kick to the back of his knees sent his folding halfway. Then a kick to the ass sent him down to the floor until he was eating gravel. His arms caught him before any damage could have been done to his pretty face. 

Steps came around him, the jangling of keys short after. The steps had a tap to them. Dorian peered up from the floor to look at his attacker. Heels. He saw heels. The person circled him like a vulture before he felt a tug on his arm, and his body was turned up words. Then hips were around his chest, keys were aimed at his face, and an equally beautiful face met his. 

  
  
  


He had never seen a face like hers. He didn’t recognize her, but she couldn’t be any yongue than he was. Her hair was tied in a ponytail, dyed snow white. Her roots were dark in need of a new coat of color. Her lips were stained red making her snarl as bright as her hair. Her skin was porcelain, it looked soft. And her eyes--her eyes were honey and gold. That’s the only way he could describe them. Honey and gold and rich like the sun.

“I should kill you,” she snarled, getting close to his face. Her breath smelled like grapes. Her tongue was tsained purple. 

Dorian put on a cool attitude. He was cool, right? He was Dorian Havilliard. He played football, had a 4.0, was on a track to Oxford where he would study English. He was cool. She made him feel not so cool, because she was cooler. “Why don’t you then?”

The girl clenched her keys in her palm hard enough that he could see the red imprint it made on her skin. “You’re too pretty to kill.”

Dorain grinned. She wasn’t dangerous, or at least he didn’t think she was, and she thought he was pretty. Oh his elbows, he rolled up until she was practically sitting on his lap. She scoffed, her hand went to his chest and he was pushed down to the floor again, his elbows catching him up. “Funny,” she said through clenched teeth.

“What,” Dorian began, “the fact that you're sitting on me or that I don’t fear you?”

The girl smiled then evil as the devil. “The fact you thought you coudl get away with robbing me.”

_ Oh.  _ She thought he was a sick robber. “I wasn’t--” he started, but she shut him up.

“What were you doing than?” she asked. Her voice faltered a little at her question. He got up to look at her a little more.

“I saw you drive the path, and no one ever does that, so I got curious. That’s all. I meant no harm, just you left your keys in and I didn’t want anyone fucking stealing your car. I’m not some sicko. I don’t steal pretty girl’s cars.” He shot her a dazzling smile which she replied to with a roll of her pretty yellow eyes. 

Cat eyes. They reminded him of cat eyes, but in a good way.  _ Gross _ , he shoudln’t tell her that.

She ran her keys against his cheek. Dorian’s head fell back a little, a sigh escaping his lips at the cool metal of the keys. The girl laughed a little before she twirled her keys around her finger. 

Then her body was gone from against his, and he felt  _ cold _ all of a sudden. For a second, he thought about making that cat eyes comment so that she’d stay to talk to him a little longer. But, her car door clicked upen and she stepped in, her black heels dissapearing into the vihecal. He lay on the floor and watched as she shot an eyebrow into her forehead and watched him.

“Are you going to get up, or should I just run you over?” she asked from her window. Dorian realized he was still lying on the floor. He got up and dusted off his jeans. 

“You said you wanted to kill me, there was your chance,” he said when he finished dusting off his jeans. Was she glowing? She was glowing. The moon made her glow.

She flashed that dazzlingly dangerous smile again, “I told you, I don’t kill pretty boys.” Then she stuck her keys into the engine. It made a gurgling noise before she did it again. Then it started. 

“You know, I could fix that for you, if you want.” What was he doing? She was a stranger who literally told him she wanted to kill him, and he was inviting her along to his mechanic. What kind of freak does that?

She leaned into her open window a little. He grabbed the top of her car and leaned in too, praying she didn’t stab him for touching it. “Yeah?”

Dorain smiled at her and nodded, “yeah.”

“That’s kind of creepy given I don’t even know your name,” she said. Cheeky girl. Her white hair was carried by a gust of wind.

Dorian leaned off her car and shoved a hand in front of her face. She recoiled before backing up and taking it. “Dorian Havilliard.” She took his hand and shook it once. Then she let go and it returned to his side. He wanted it back in hers though.

“Take a step back,” she said. Dorian didn’t ask further before taking one. “No, bigger,” she said. He complied, taking a larger step backwards.

“You have my name, it's only proper for me to have yours as well,” he called. He was only a step away, but he felt so very far. 

The girl grinned ear to ear. “Only if you catch me.”

Then she was off, and he found he wanted, for once in his whole life, to catch someone. 


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian continues his chase for the white haired, jolly rancher smelling, cat eyed girls name. Manon continues her chase for escape. When he finally catches her, Manon takes a moment to escape life to play a game that involves a bunch of questions and a little bit of hope. 
> 
> \- “Escaping a party. How did you find this road?”  
> “I’m a crafty girl, I figured it out. Who’s party?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy this chapter! Leave a comment for anything really! If you need to talk let me know! I love you!

Chapter Two:

Miss you terribly already,  
Miss the space between your eyelids,  
Where I'd stare through awkward sentences  
And avoid through awkward silence  
Keaton Henson: Small Hands

He was fast, but she was faster. Even with her janked up car, Abraxos drove faster than that handsome boys sports car could ever. She couldn’t get his face out of her head. The way his black curls waft in the wind, or the blue of his eyes. She coudln’t forget the way he felt underneath her, or the way it felt when she was practically chased by his car. It was ecstasy. She needed more, more, more of the driving. Like an escape. For once she wasn’t running because she had to, but because she wanted to.  
His car made a gutteral roar behind her. Long and angry as he chased for her car. Zooming forwards with a step on her petel, Manon Blackbeak darted forwards. The black car behind her shifted lanes and moved near hers. They had been driving on this path in circles for the last hour and a half. The party she attended earlier was a far off memory now. She wondered what people were doing now.  
When she was breathless and her foot ached from all the stepping, Manon slowly pulled over. The car zoomed by, a subtle, “Hey!” left in its wake. He was too slow, so he had to make the round again to stop next to her. Curiosity climbed up her back when she thought about what he would do if she just drove off again. She didn’t. Let the poor boy have a chance.  
Manon had two minutes before he would be back. So, she sat back in her seat, stared at herself in her mirror, and laughed. Ecstasy filled her soul. A sense of lightness filled her soul. Something she hadn’t felt in a long, long time.  
She laughed until her lungs were empty. Laugh after laugh after laugh. Cackle after cackle until she was breathless from laughter instead of driving.   
Two taps at her window shook her out of her laughing, breathless, lightheadedness. She jerked around to find the same handsome boy, Dorian, staring at her, grinning like he had just played with a cluster of puppies. She rolled down her window slowly making sure to peak at her reflection a second more. She looked good--fine, a little insane, but pretty. She was pretty with her dyed white hair and golden eyes. Unique. That’s what Asterin called her.  
“Well,” Manon said when her window hit the rubber at the bottom of the base, “I guess I owe you a name.”   
Dorian leaned in against her car. Under the moonlight he looked beautiful. Deep black curls and violet eyes that were crazy pretty. He was much taller than her and lean muscle shone from inside of his grey shirt. A jacket fit for a motercyclist clung onto his arms, though he obviously wasn’t a motercyclist. He was too put together for that. She would know, motorcycles were fun. She’d had her own history with them. Her own history for leather motorcyclist jackets.  
“You new here?” he asked.   
Manon grinned. “Come on pretty boy,” she mewled, “no cheap shots. You can have my name, or you can chase me for another question.”   
His grin was marvelous as he leaned in deeper into her open window. Deep enough that she had to press her back against the armrest so he didn’t kiss her. “You gonna drive off while I’m halfway in your car?”   
“I have half the mind to.”  
He smiled wickedly then. He stared at her for a long moment, his curls falling over his forehead as a gust of wind came by.  
“Want to play a game?” he asked. A game. She hadn’t played those in a long, long time.   
Manon threw up a dark eyebrow. “What kind of game?”   
He chuckled. She could feel his breath on her face. “Not that kind of game. I like to take my girls on a couple dates before playing racy."  
A scoff escaped her lips. “Your girls?”  
He curled his head to the side, his shiny vehicle glimmering behind him. “How about that game?”  
Manon thought about it. Hopefully this strangely beautiful boy wasn’s some kind of freak. Maybe she would have fun tonight after all. She’d never see him again so it didn’t matter what he thought of her. For this moment--this small sliver of the day, she’d have fun. She’d play his game.   
Manon put Abraxos in park and climbed out of her car. The boy slammed his head against her door, struggling to climb out of her window while she opened her door. Manon closed it slowly forcing him to move faster. Then she finally exited, her black heels clipping on the dirt road. He smirked looking her up and down.  
Leaning against her car with a suggestive smirk on his pretty face, she waved him over to the hood of her car. Manon propped herself up on the hood leaving room next to her. He didn’t take it, instead choosing to stand in front of her. Awkwardly close. Close enough that her knees touched his. “This game of yours,” she said with a show of her hands.   
He smiled at her then took the seat in her car next to her. The car shifted from his weight being added to it. Manon turned to listen as he explained. “It’s called the question game. I ask a question, you answer, then you ask another, and I answer. No questions are out of reach, all must be answered, and we go to 21, or until we get bored.”   
Manon cocked her head at him. “I like it,” she said with the lick of her lips. She caught Dorian’s eyes darting to them for a second. A sense of satisfaction warmed her skin.   
He leaned his weight against two hands stretched behind her hands. “Good. It’s a fun game.”  
Manon mimicked the way he sat smirking at him. She smiled at him. Dorian grinned back in that wicked way.  
She hated how her heart fluttered with a little spark. He didn’t even know her name. He didn’t know that in a year or so she’d be gone from this stupid town. He didn’t know who she was, if he’d ever see her past this day. He didn’t know tht sometimes hs ewanted to fly closer to the sun so that she could but. That she wanted to. Maybe he was sandpaper, and she was a match. Maybe today she could burn for just a night .  
“Where do we begin?”

Staring at her was becoming one of his favorite hobbies. It was like crack. The way her moon white hair glimmered under the stars. Her cat eyes, and the smell of grape that radiated off of her lips. The longness of her legs that he didn’t get to see fully when he was on the floor under her mercy. The slimness of her waist and the fullness of her chest and lips. The scandleclad outfit she had on could catch any guys eyes.   
She wore black heelshe got a close up look at on the floor. Dark jeans and an itty bitty red top that showed off the plains of her pale stomach where a light scar ran scross her belly button dones with a shiny diamond piercing. A black jacket kept her arms warm along with her white ponytail.   
A gust of wind threw that ponytail back a little. She relished in it, her wickedly red painted lips turning into a smile. Her dark, long eyelashed shadowing against her cheeksa s she closed her eyes and tipped her head back sinking deeper into her elbows. She spread her long neck bare sending a jolt of electricity down Dorian’s spine. Her back curved and her flat stomachstretched. Strong abs doned them, the ring glimmering slightly. He had to look away to ask his first question.  
“What's your name?”  
She opened her eyes and said, “Manon. How old are you?”  
Dorian grinned, “17. How about you?”  
She closed her eyes and stretched again. She groaned and said, “17. What are you doing driving this late at night?” She was 17. His age. Maybe he would see her later afterall.  
“Escaping a party. How did you find this road?”  
“I’m a crafty girl, I figured it out. Who’s party?”  
Dorian stretched back on her car in the same way she did. “My own. Where did you come from?”  
She opened her eyes and sighed. “I don’t even know.”  
“That's not a valid answer.”  
“How come?”   
“You didn’t answer it.”  
“Fine. I came from a party as well. Why are you escaping your own party?”  
“Well,” he said, now completely lying down on her hood. Manon did the same. He watched her pale skin spread out like butter, clashing against the ferrari red of her machine. “Once I saw a girl water my houseplant I knew it was time to leave.”  
She turned at him now with this crazy surprised look that made him want to touch her. “I was just there,” she said.   
Dorian’s breath escaped his lungs. He didn’t see her, but then again, he didn’t see many things when it came to classmates and parties. He was a different Dorian there. What kind of coincidence that he had bumped into her. A grin slithered up his lips. “What were you doing there?”  
She grinned beautifully now too. “Watering your poor house plant.” Surprise struck him liek a brick. He stammered to try and apologize, but she hushed him with a question of her own. “What’s your favorite color?”  
Dorian turned to her at the change in subject. “Blue,” he whispered. “Why is your hair dyed white.” Since they were on the topic of color.   
She reached for a lock of it at the same time he did. Their fingers touched for a secons, a jolt of electricity went from her skin to his. His hand remained to his side in a split second. “Is it that obvious,” she said comically. He threw her waiting eyebrow in which she replied with a chuckle and an answer. “I could have dyed it blond, or black, or red even,” she tapped her car, “but white is different, unique. I want to be unique.” He heard something like longing in her voice. Manon’s face became light and dazy for a split second before she had a question to ask. “Do you think I’m pretty?”  
He didn’t know how to answer. Yes was an understatement. “Very,” he said. “I thought that was quite obvious. How about you, do you think I’m pretty?” Dorian reached up to his curls and twisted one in mock seductivity.  
“I think you are quite beautiful,” she said in that breathy out of this universe voice. His pants became a little too tight around his thighs.  
Dorian threw his head back and laughed. “It’s your turn.” She looked up at him and twisted her hair a little. “What time is it?”  
Dorian scrunched up his face. “Wierd question.” He looked at his watch. Shit. It was late. “Three,” he told her. She laughed lightly.  
“What’s so funny?” he asked, confused. She thread her fingers through her white hair.   
“It’s the witching hour,” she exclaimed in a spooky sort of voice.  
“It is,” he replied. The question had come to an end. He was oddly disappointed.   
Manon got up from where she lay on her car's roof. He wanted to push her back down. Keep ehr lying down next to him, but he didn’t. He barely knew her but more the fact that she was named Manon and she liked watering half dead plants. Also the fact that she liked grape candy. He caught a glimmer of her purple tongue. “You got anymore?” he asked, trying to restart conversation. She stood up but turned to him confused.  
“What do you mean?”   
Dorian grinned and followed to where she climbed back into her car. She opened the window allowing him to lean into it the same way he had earlier. Full circle. They had come back full circle. A grin creeped up his face. “Grape’s my favorite flavor too, well, I also like Cherry.” Understanding came on her face in the form of a smirk.  
She began rolling up her window. “Hey!” Dorian called when he could no longer lean inside of the car. Half of it was open to reveal the girl inside, her hands on her wheel, a wicked smile on her face.   
“I don’t know. Maybe you’ll find out another time.” Then she closed the window all the way and revved up her car.  
Before he could offer any kind of protest, she drove away leaving him in the middle of a dirt road screaming, “will I see you again!”  
He swore he heard her reply with, “Maybe.”


End file.
